


Drop out

by RocioWrites



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The laughter preceded the well-dressed figure sneaking into his office. Kyouya sighed, rubbing his eyes. “What do you want now?” He asked, noticing the skirt and lovely shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop out

**Author's Note:**

> Future!fic, kind of? Also, crossdressing happens jsyk.  
> Inspired by A Softer World, you'll see.

**272**

*

Heels clicked against the hard cold floor calling loudly for attention, brisk and confident steps formed a path from the main door to the second elevator to the left through a buzzing hallway full of offices with people working nonstop – typical for such a big company.

The young woman with a fake but polite smile behind the first desk directed a look to the person, ignoring the fact that the new intruder should announce themselves before taking the elevator. Straight chocolate brown hair was swung out of a shoulder, red lips flashing a smile to the secretary plus a piercing blue look that dissected her and dared her to even try to stop them. The secretary scowled but didn’t protest and huffed, mumbling to herself about the contact lenses and their outstanding and unnecessary color.

The elevator doors beeped and opened, a small flow of three males in business suits rapidly going out. The stranger smiled charmingly at all of them and gave a small nod, eyes silently flirting with each one. One ignored it completely, going as usual, but the other two stopped in their tracks to watch the other get inside the elevator. Somewhere not so far away, the secretary groaned.

“Wait.” A new voice accompanied new steps and the two men swirled to watch the older man arrive beside them.

A perfectly manicured hand shot upwards making sure the doors wouldn’t close, another flirty smile and everyone gulped at the furrowed eyebrows of Ootori Yoshio. He coughed and people got into motion, the two men still entranced with the image of the stranger brusquely leaving them to their devices, worrying a bit about what exactly had Mr. Ootori frowning.

Yoshio stepped in and pushed one of the buttons in the panel to his right, inspecting the other. Black tube skirt and long pale legs peeking under it, high heeled shoes, light pink long-sleeved shirt complimenting their skin color. The chocolate colored hair danced minutely with the barely perceivable movement.

They both rode the elevator for a few floors in complete silence, Yoshio side-watched the stranger who was still smiling openly and almost suggestively at him. He coughed again, curious now. He didn’t remember seeing this woman around but he wasn’t in the mood to utter his doubts about this person out loud.

“Bad day, Mr. Ootori?” Was the sentence to break the ice. It sounded melodic and nice and the voice matched the feminine body perfectly. He gripped his suitcase harder than needed and nodded. She laughed softly, nodding along with him as if she understood. “Long week ahead.”

“Too long.” He ventured, easing his scowl and sounding extremely tired although it didn’t seem to be his doing.

“You should relax a bit more.” Came as easy as a summer breeze, artificial blue eyes showing mercy. “You work too much, you should relax and take a few days off.” And a little laugh followed, it was refreshing to say the least.

He thought about it and couldn’t remember the last time he took days off to just rest. But before he could agree or disagree, the elevator beeped again announcing he was on his chosen floor. The doors opened with a rusty bang and he got out, the woman stayed inside though.

So he turned around to acknowledge a goodbye and probably try to tattoo that slim and inviting figure on his brain. All he saw was a professional smile turn into a wicked sharp smirk, eyes suddenly mischievously malevolent and he automatically frowned again. This wasn’t how she should look like, not after her flirty self coquettishly spoke to him.

The doors started to close but he stayed rooted to his spot, watching the other, inspecting and processing what was missing here, which piece of the puzzle he wasn’t grasping. Something was out of place. She tilted her head, hair falling from her shoulder in a dark straight curtain; a hand moved suspiciously until her wrist covered her glossed mouth.

“Target’s on the move.” She said in a not-so-subtle whisper as if she was talking to someone else, dark smirk in place and Yoshio’s eyes widened in slight horror, without understanding the whole of it. “Ninth floor.” Was the last thing he got to hear before the doors closed themselves completely, another rusty bang sounding too loud in the hallway.

*

The laughter preceded the well-dressed figure sneaking into his office. Kyouya sighed, rubbing his eyes and managing to catch some self-restraint as to not throw his coffee mug to the intruder.

“What do you want now?” He asked, noticing the skirt and lovely shirt.

The other closed the door softly and walked to the desk, sitting down on it.

Long legs ended in black heeled shoes that Kyouya knew were uncomfortable but damn if they weren’t hot as hell while the other was wearing them. He noticed the wig too, at least this time it wasn’t blue, that way it didn’t draw too much attention – and somehow the straight chocolate colored hair made him think of Haruhi.

The intruder grinned. “I was just bored.” And the feminine voice disappeared completely. “I found your father on the way here.”

“Really.”

The grin widened. “Really.” And the hands went to take the shoes off. “They’re killing me.” And a pair of feet popped up and rested on Kyouya’s lap. He arched an eyebrow but didn’t complain out loud. “Do you like the clothes? I think I’m getting better at choosing skirts that fit me.” And a pair of hands flattened the fabric over the intruder’s lap, purple underwear peeking in between properly shaved legs.

“Kaoru…” Kyouya warned, almost growling in a low tone.

“Yes?” He asked in a poor imitation of innocence, batting his eyelashes indiscreetly.

“I’m working. Just because you’re not, it doesn’t mean you need to crossdress and wander in here.” Kyouya’s voice didn’t waver but he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kaoru’s right foot pressed against his crotch, softly at first, testing, probing. And the groan he got was grave and animalistic. Kyouya’s free hand fell limply on the arm-rest of his chair while the other gave a last push to the glasses before grabbing the improper appendage making Kaoru grin lustfully. He wiggled his foot but Kyouya didn’t release it so he used the other to caress a clothed thigh, the skirt restraining his movements.

“Please.” And it wasn’t more than a pleading mumble.

“Kaoru.” Another warning that went ignored as well.

Hitching up the skirt, Kaoru didn’t waste time and landed himself on Kyouya’s lap, straddling him. Kyouya released Kaoru’s feet in a rush and Kaoru’s hands automatically went to tangle in dark hair, hot wet breath on the older’s left ear. “ _Kyouya_.” He moaned his name unashamedly in a murmur, voice lowering dangerously to a mere seductive purr, pressing his flat chest against Kyouya’s.

“Stop it.” Was the reply, voice calm and detached. However, his eyes were full of heat and lust. Koaru knew what it really meant. _Don’t stop. You turn me on. Touch me. Don’t. Stop. Please. You turn me on so much._

Open-mouthed kisses were scattered across Kyouya’s neck and jaw, one of Kaoru’s hand took the tedious task of losing the necktie and unbuttoning the white shirt. And he rubbed his ass against Kyouya’s groin, cherishing the strangled sigh of pleasure it got him.

Kyouya couldn’t take it anymore and firm hands gripped that slim waist, seeming slimmer by the elegant cut of the skirt, to still the movement. He fisted the shirt and pulled until it was a crumpled mess of fabric and it was untucked enough for him to slip his hands under it, caressing smooth skin and making Kaoru moan once again.

They both knew Kaoru wasn’t quite that vocal, but when he showed up dressed like that, messing with everyone’s perception only to get Kyouya all riled up – well, he could get a bit more expressive than usual.

“Will you fuck me?” Kaoru asked, requested, ordered, _begged_. His mouth was uttering the same question again and again against Kyouya’s pulse point with fervent devotion, licking deliberately there while his hand finished opening the shirt.

Kyouya cupped his ass and brought them impossibly close, craning his neck to leave a kiss that was pure teeth and passion on Kaoru’s lips.

“Not now.” He answered, negative against Kaoru’s bottom lips. “I’m working.”

The hand that still was in Kyouya’s hair moved downward, teasing Kyouya’s chest with fingertips. Down, down, down, until he palmed Kyouya’s erection. Kaoru opened his legs some more – hearing the fabric of his skirt tearing apart, he didn’t care one bit – and rubbed his own arousal on the back of said hand.

“ _Please_.” And he dived in for another kiss, tongue going in and out of Kyouya’s mouth in a crude imitation of what he was asking for.

Kyouya grabbed a handful of the long brown hair at the back of Kaoru’s head and pulled. _Hard_. The other mewled in something between pain and disappointment at not being the real pain he would feel if that had been his own hair.

“I’m working.” He explained once again and bit the expanse of throat presented, removing the hand on his nether regions.

“Do me.” And the sound made the neck under Kyouya’s lips vibrate placidly.

“Later.” The promise was sealed by another sharp bite, this time behind Kaoru’s ear. “At home.” Kaoru whined deep in his throat and buckled his hips, another loud ripping sound was heard. “Your skirt.” Kyouya pointed out but he didn’t let go of Kaoru’s fake hair.

The other took a few deep, calming breathes. “I know.” And Kyouya released him. Kaoru bit his lips trying to suppress the mischievous smile. “I’ll be waiting for you at home then.”

Kyouya sighed and helped him up and out of his lap. “Fine.” He saw Kaoru assessing the damage done to the poor tube skirt, which wasn’t as awful as the sound might have made them believe, and then re-arranging his shirt once more. He licked his lips. “I’ll be late though.”

Kaoru pierced him with a look that was anything but a threat, menacing smile in place. “Of course.” He said instead, fixing his hair. “By the way, you have something…” And he gestured all over his mouth, chin and neck, red glossy lips smirking with irony.

Kyouya groaned and caught some self-restraint as to not throw his coffee mug to his lover. He pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing his glasses into place, feeling the sluggish headache and throbbing arousal both playing inside his body.

“Just go, Kaoru.”

In a rush, Kaoru put his shoes back on and slipped out the door, a wicked suggestive laugh inviting him to follow and amuse himself with the other, clacking heels defining the path away from his office. A clear image of a skirt being lifted and an angular foot still pressing his clothed dick was fresh in his mind, too palpable and hot to ignore.

Kyouya’s head made a trip towards the desk, a soft thud when his forehead made contact with the wooden table. He inhaled languidly, hands twitching trying to resist the urge to reach and stroke himself to completion.

He exhaled slowly, measurably. All he could think of was Kaoru pressed tightly against him, under him, all around, moaning, demanding.

The throbbing arousal was fucking winning.

He picked up the phone and cleared his throat once, quickly connecting with his secretary. “Something personal has come up. It’s urgent. I’ll be taking the rest of the day off.”

*

I like to wear a wig  
and ride elevators.  
I smile at businessmen  
until they get out.  
Then I stage whisper,  
"Target is on the move.  
Ninth floor."  
[[Drop outs have more fun](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=272)]


End file.
